


But Rhys is gone...

by Lost_Elf



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Brainwashing, Creepypasta, Dark, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Psychological Horror, Tales From the Borderlands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Elf/pseuds/Lost_Elf
Summary: Rhys was captured by a psycho on Pandora, and Jack didn't save him in time.No... Rhys was married to a nice man, and Jack didn't even exist.No... The Good Boy loved his husband, and the voice he kept hearing was bad."I'll get you out of this, pumpkin. I'm so sorry."**This is just a random dark creepy story. Warning for Dark. It's supposed to be a horror.**
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	But Rhys is gone...

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry.

Somewhere, in this universe, there used to be ~~Rhys~~.

 ~~Rhys~~ was pretty...

He was stubborn...

He was ambitious, smart, loyal, and all the other things people said about him.

 ~~Rhys~~ had a body. It lacked an arm and an eye.

Now that there was no more ~~Rhys~~ , this body lacked more than that. But ~~Rhys~~ didn't exist, so he didn't mind.

Every morning he would be called **Sweetheart**. The man who loved him would use a wet cloth to gently wipe around his empty left eye socket clean. There used to be an ECHOeye, but that was ~~Rhys~~ ', and ~~Rhys~~ was gone.

Then the man would use a different cloth to wipe around his right eye. This eye stopped working long ago, when an acidic liquid was dropped into it. But it still needs to be kept clean.

Sometimes, he would sob during the process. He'd wish to see. But he would only get reprimanded, told that he doesn't need to see the world, just sit there and be a good boy.

 ~~Rhys~~ used to have two arms, but the **Good Boy** only had one. It was clumsy and only good for eating, drinking, and pleasuring his husband.

 ~~Rhys~~ was able to walk, but the **Darling** 's legs were too heavy. Iron cuffs and thick chains caused him a lot of pain and made moving uncomfortable, hard, undesired. His master liked him the most when he lied in the nest the whole day, anyway.

 **Love** lived in a nest. He knew that the nest is situated in a small house on Pandora, but that was irrelevant. His life was centred around the mess of pillows and blankets. They were soft and comfortable, easy on his body that grew weaker and weaker every time his husband injected him with The Medicine.

 ~~Rhys~~ would hear a voice in his head. He met him shortly after landing on Pandora. They became friends. The voice would call him silly names, and it would ask him: "Are you there, ~~Rhysie~~? Can you hear me? ... I'm so sorry I couldn't save you, ~~pumpkin~~. I should have figured something out when you still were in there. I have a plan now, you know. One that counts in every detail, even your muscle dystrophy or whatever he did to you. But you don't hear me, right?"

He didn't want to hear. He was a good boy, and his husband told him to "Stay here and be good!" this morning, and good boys don't hear voices, and so he whimpered and cried, holding a hand over one ear while pressing the other into a pillow. "It's alright, ~~Rhysie~~. I'll leave. You just rest, okay?" the voice would say, and then it would be gone.

His husband would come back in the evening, bringing food for the **Sugar**. He would wait patiently until he feeds himself, and then he would make love to him, over and over until they both passed out.

 ~~Rhys~~ would fight it. He would kick, scratch, scream, but it would be useless. Later, he would just lay there, his tongue cut out, unable to talk bad things. Then, ~~Rhys~~ would be gone.

Some days, his husband wouldn't come back in the evening, and the **Pretty Little Thing** would be confused, scared, sad, trembling on the hard floor, because he doesn't deserve the nice pillows when his master is so obviously angry at him, abandoning him.

The voice would come back, then, but it would be welcome. "Take a deep breath, baby boy," it would say, and only then would he realise that he is hyperventilating. "Good boy, so good."

"Lay on something warm and comfortable, baby. You are cold. If you catch a flu, your—" the voice would break, " _husband_ will be unhappy." And he would climb on a pile of pillows and wrap himself in blankets.

"Such a good boy!" the voice would cheer. "Your husband will be happy." And he would feel so good he would cry, and he wouldn't understand why something aches in his chest. "It's alright," the voice would say. "I'm here. I will never leave you. I will get you out, ~~kiddo~~."


End file.
